


the fine line between passion and obsession

by unrequitedexistence



Category: The Fall (TV)
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4098961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrequitedexistence/pseuds/unrequitedexistence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stella Gibson refuses to leave the crime scene till she understands how someone knew where they were and attacked them without them seeing it coming. She stands there, hands still covered in blood, staring into space. That's when a familiar voice calls out for attention. A welcome distraction?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Basic Space

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.: This is my first The Fall fanfiction. I am rather nervous for I added an original character that, if I owned the show, would be real and played by Victoria Smurfit. Actually, I blame this whole crazy idea on her brilliant existence & Fiona's. Right. Here goes nothing...

_Disgust_.

Even in slow motion it felt too fast.

They had found her, they had found her _alive_. It was the closest thing to a miracle that Stella Gibson had ever witnessed. Her job was done. She would have to wait and see the trial through, yes, but that would give her more than enough time to fall back into step with herself.

She saw him before her inner contentment had time to reach and pull at the corners of her mouth. Her smile was a still born that died with the invisible bullet that set the tone to the others that found their targets with an easiness that made Stella sick.

 _How_?

That was the question which Stella was still trying to answer as she stood at the crime scene, her hands still bloody, her clothes still drenched in a probability so small that it hadn’t been even taken into consideration. A _mistake._ For such a tiny existence, it had created quite an immense mess, it had left quite a stain.

She hadn’t said a word since they took the bodies. They were both alive, at least for _now_. She was told by the paramedics that they would do everything they could to save them, to save them _both_. But there were prayers, prayers in the air, that Spector would be too badly injured, that he wouldn’t make it. Stella could hear them, could _feel_ them, see them written all over their faces. It would be so much easier for everybody. Besides being investigated as to what had led to such a deadly event, they would probably be left alone on some sort of technicality.

They tried to convince her to leave, at least for a while, to change from her bloody clothes. She simply shook her head, she wanted to see this through, she wanted to be there as the team tried to figure out what exactly had happened, _how_ it had happened.

She was well aware of the looks she was being given. No one had expected her to break into a run to Spector, no one had expected her to attend to Spector’s wounds instead of her colleague’s, of her _lover_ ’s. They didn’t understand. She wanted Spector to pay for his crimes, but dying was not the kind of punishment she had in mind. He deserved to suffer in jail, he deserved to feel the _need_ to kill and not being able to do it, just as his victims hadn’t been able to breathe as he strangled them. And then there was Olivia. He, too, had a daughter that deserved more, _better_.

“Darling, we need to stop meeting like this.”

It took Stella a moment to place the voice, but there was something extremely familiar about it. The inflection on darling, the exhaled confidence, the lightness of the said words… It was not the kind of personality you would expect at a crime scene and that could only mean one thing…

 _Helena Blake_.

Once her eyes fell on the silhouette of Helena as she turned towards the voice, Stella let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding.

Anyone else would have flinched at Stella’s appearance, perhaps even taken a step back as to gain a broader sense of the context and a distance to the possible problem in hands, but nothing on Helena’s features conveyed any kind of shock or surprise. Or _pity_.Her intense blue eyes, which had pierced through so many maniac minds, resembled the calm after a storm. They oozed peace... and sassiness. It was a breath of fresh air.

“You look breathtakingly exhausted, darling. You are in need of a bath and a home cooked meal.”

Stella couldn’t help but smile. Helena seemed to be both completely out of place and perfectly at home. It was like she lived in a different layer, her existence left unblended on purpose by whoever was editing their reality.

As usual, the other woman chose not to address the matter at hand, giving Stella the space and the time to decide what exactly they were going to talk about, if anything. It was quite interesting for it felt like Helena was relinquishing the control Stella knew her to love, when it really it was just a trick, a technique used to get people to spill their guts once they became overwhelmed by either the silence or the topics used to avoid the subject. Then again, it could be nothing like that. That was always how it was with Helena. You never quite knew what game she was playing, but whatever it was, she was usually always one step ahead and making the rules. Quite a dangerous adversary, and an absolutely stunning challenge. She read minds for a living, she dived deep into other people’s obsessions till they became her own, old friends whose habits she knew by heart. It was scary how easy it all _seemed_ to be for her at times. It was like she kept all these skins inside her closet and put them on and took them off according to her needs.

“Shall we?”

As Stella followed Helena to her car her mind came up with a new puzzle for her to solve, a welcome distraction. How had Helena ended up at the crime scene? Someone must have called her, reached out to her. But who knew about their… _friendship_? Burns? He would only do it as a last resort, of that Stella was absolutely sure. Helena terrified him. He believed she wasn’t a fan of their _involvement_. Apparently the other woman was extremely good, _scarily_ good even, at conveying her emotions and opinions without saying a word or acting on them. _Jealousy_? Perhaps… But he knew that they understood each other perfectly. _Two peas from the same pot_ , they had been called once. Stella wasn’t sure whether to take it as a compliment or not. There were way more than fifty shades of grey to both their characters, and some were so dark they were mistaken for black.

The drive was quiet and felt rather quick. The moment Helena parked in front of a Victorian house in the middle of nowhere Stella was sure that she had been working on Spector’s case for a while now.

“How long did you say you have been here for?”

Helena retrieved the keys from the ignition and got out of the car, making her way directly towards the old wooden door.

“I didn’t.”

Once inside, Helena waited for Stella to walk in before locking the door behind them. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Stella was staring inquisitively at her.

“Three to four weeks, I think.”

“You are getting better. This place _feels_ exactly like you.”

Stella wasn’t sure whether that was good. It either meant that Helena was in too deep or perhaps just not enough. The later was never really an option, though.

Helena liked to rent houses instead of hotel rooms. She liked them to look like home, to _feel_ like home. When questioned, she had said they kept her grounded as she took blindfolded leaps of faith into other people’s obsessive and maniac minds. Why not an apartment? The answer to that question had been followed by a wink that would make Burns run for his life. Apparently Helena didn’t want to scare her neighbors to death with her _research_.

“Have you been sleeping at all?”

Helena asked, her eyes steady on Stella’s as she removed her heels.

“Have you?”

Helena smiled as she started taking off her coat, making her way across the hall and towards the living room.

“Darling, you know by now that this is what I do, this is my job. I can’t afford to let each case in like you do, or else I would probably be lying dead somewhere by now. Besides, you know Paul doesn’t make it into my top ten of perversion.”

Stella sighed, mirroring Helena’s earlier gestures by removing her shoes and abandoning them by the couch.

“But you…” Helena started as she went to the shelf where some books stood by bottles of whisky. “You are all about the why and I know it haunts you.” She said, bringing her eyes up again to Stella’s. “Do you want a glass for the bath?”

“Please.”

Helena poured two drinks and gave one to Stella before starting to make her way upstairs and into the bedroom she was currently calling her own. The tones were dark purple, black and a few traces of grey here and there. Stella smiled as her eyes found a few orchids that she could only guess to be rare, for they were Helena’s favorites. She was a collector, and quite a dedicated and delicate one.

The scenery made Stella more comfortable. It almost felt like she had just woken up at home to find that it had all been nothing but a bad dream, a _mistake_. She closed her eyes for a moment as the sounds and the images from the shooting filled her mind again. Her hands stood to her sides, two fists more than ready to blow the memories away, at least for the moment.

Stella shook her head and took a deep breath before deciding to focus her attention on Helena’s movements as the other woman searched her closet for something for her to wear. Anyone else would look at the way she carried herself around the house and think she had been living there her whole life. Stella knew better, though. As she found a way of fitting in with other people’s minds, she also found a way of fitting in with _her_ houses. There was easiness to it, as if Helena had become this conscience receiver, always ready to upload someone else’s history. She changed her whole life from job to job, no questions asked.

Helena grabbed a champagne silk nightgown and a matching robe before making her way to the bathroom. She hung them carefully before starting to run Stella’s bath.

“Let me help you.”

Helena’s words made Stella suddenly feel self-conscious, they were the first trigger to bring a connotation to what had happened, and it was a bad one. She looked down at herself, taking in her own appearance for the first time since they had taken Spector’s body away.

Helena sighed deeply as she witnessed firsthand Stella’s shoulders tensing up. She moved closer, reaching behind the other woman to help her out of her coat. She hung it on another free hook before turning around again and finding that Stella had already taken her sweater off. It was then Helena’s turn to unhook Stella’s bra as the other woman studied her hands, apparently transfixed by their dark redness. _This is a new low_ , Helena though to herself as she ran a fingertip down Stella’s spine.

Stella flinched and Helena’s heart cringed.

“Good Lord, Stella. You are beyond tense.” Helena’s voice was now but a murmur, concern more than evident. “Just breathe.” She whispered in Stella’s ear as she ran her hands down Stella’s arms, each coming to meet its bloody pair, squeezing them gently as she pressed her body against Stella’s back. There was a sudden sharp intake of a breath. “You are alive.” She said as she dropped a kiss to Stella’s naked shoulder before helping her into the bathtub.

Stella moaned softly, closing her eyes as her body became submerged in hot water.

“That’s it, darling. Breathe. I am going to get dinner started, you take your time.”


	2. Confusing Happiness

_Water_.

That was Stella Gibson’s sanctuary. _A back door to my own reality_ , she would call it. No matter what happened during her day, when immersed in water she could either find her way back to herself or to the persona she had created to help her go through her work hours effortlessly, avoiding most mishaps and emotional overdoses.

It felt like a cleansing. She could feel them, the puzzle pieces from her day, the ones that had found their way onto her skin, almost like permanent tattoos of pain, disappointment and overall melancholy, being peeled away.

The way the water embraced her…

Baths, showers or swims were by now the only moments when Stella allowed herself to feel the heaviness of her job, to crumble under the pressure and weight of every breathless second of her work activity.

She felt _safe_. No matter what secrets and confessions she exhaled into the water, she knew she wasn’t going to be persecuted. Instead, she would be welcomed, time and time again, and her rawness, her nudeness, wouldn’t make heads turn, not even her own. There was comfort when seeing her own reflection. Acceptance.

_Peace_.

Stella had no idea of how long she had been there for. Her skin was slightly wrinkled, the water had already gone cold and the strands of hair clinging to her neck were dark, meaning drenched… but she was definitely not in the mood to connect the dots, to start another investigation inside her head. Not everything was a case to solve. And she was not in a hurry, was she?

_Definitely not_.

She was rather eager to experiment Helena’s theory, though. She was planning on trying to allow herself to drown in the surrounding familiarity till it became part of her skin, of her _self_. She wanted to try and allow herself to _feel_ at home.

This was something she wouldn’t dare to attempt in her hotel rooms for they were claustrophobic enough as they were, but this? This was much different, this could actually work.

Stella changed into the nightgown Helena had chosen for her and studied her reflection in the mirror. Not only did she seem to fit in with the background, she felt whole again.

Barefoot, Stella made her way downstairs. She took her time as she did, studying the décor. One would expect it to scream Helena’s personality, but no. Instead, it felt more like a whisper, an enchanting melody that lulled you into a state of wellbeing, of security…

Another melody caught her attention as she walked into the living room where she had earlier abandoned her shoes. _I’ve got you under my skin_ was playing and Stella was pretty sure it was one of Diana Krall’s covers. She couldn’t help but smile as the song had long ago become sort of a private joke between the two. The lyrics reminded them both of the particularities of their jobs.

Stella trailed after the tune and found herself leaning against the doorframe that led to the kitchen. It was impossible not to stop and follow Helena’s movements as the other woman swayed and hummed along, wooden spoon in hand, eyes closed.

She was still wearing the same red dress from the crime scene. Who wears such a bright color to such an event? Always Helena. And it clung to her skin, not leaving any space for possible doubts. Most people gawked, but some had the courage to shake their heads and let out comments meant to never abandon the asylum under their tongues. They claimed it was distasteful, exposing herself like that at a scene still warm from death. If only they knew… Helena was never exposed, not even when completely naked. She never got caught wearing just her personality, unless she wanted to.

Stella chuckled as the other woman twirled.

“Enjoying the view, are we?” Helena asked as she took notice of Stella’s eyes on her.

“Normality suits you.”

“Why, thank you, darling. A guilty pleasure, I would call it. I rarely get to cook to anyone else but myself.” Helena replied as she reached for the glass of wine that was set on the counter by the stove and took a sip.

Stella left her place by the doorframe and made her way to Helena, stealing her glass as she attempted to set it back on the counter to get busy with the cooking. Helena’s hips never stopped following the beat. It was rather endearing, Stella had to confess. It was something she could get used to.

“You haven’t changed yet.” Stella commented, taking a sip from Helena’s glass.

“I might have gotten a little carried away.”

“Oh please, don’t mind me. I am enjoying the show.”

“It’s impossible not to mind you, darling. I could feel your gaze from a distance. If looks could kill…”

“Amongst other things…” Stella’s words were suggestive and her tone came out enlaced in Helena’s wine. She was sure it was Portuguese, probably from the south. The warm Alentejo sun, bathing the grapes and giving them the smooth yet strong texture that now caressed her tongue. It reminded her of Helena herself. Elegant, graceful but with an evident, strong, personality.

Helena was now the one leaning back against the counter and watching as Stella stared into space, a smile playing on her lips. Helena could only start to guess what was on the other woman’s mind. That was one of the things that most intrigued her about Stella. She could see them, identify them, if Stella’s thoughts were somehow work related. It was like their minds synched when working on a case together. But when it was something personal? It was a whole different plane of existence. It seemed that Stella was quite successful at compartmentalizing things. To each door its key. So for now, Helena could only guess… or just stare aimlessly, enjoying the rare view of an open smile on Stella’s face.

“Staring at your guests like that… if I didn’t know better I would think you were trying to read my mind.”

“But you do know better. And I do too. I wouldn’t call it a waste of time, for the view is rather… stunning, but still, I much prefer to drink in the view itself than wander.” Helena’s gaze was so intense that Stella felt goosebumps taking over her skin.

It was the other woman’s turn to chuckle before rotating towards the stove, wooden spoon in hand. She then turned around again and took it to where Stella stood, wine glass still in hand, Helena’s red lipstick all over it. “Try this for me, will you?”

Stella parted her lips, her eyes never leaving Helena’s as the other woman brought the wooden spoon closer to her mouth. As soon as the warm sauce found her taste buds her eyes shut down. A soft moan followed as Stella swallowed.

“Perfect.” Helena said, reaching out with a fingertip to wipe away a bit of sauce from the corner of Stella’s lips, then taking it into her own mouth.

“Oh God, what is it?”

“Proof that you haven’t been eating well.”

Stella rolled her eyes and followed Helena back to the stove, standing as close as she could while the other woman finished the preparations.

“It’s just a simple Bolognese, darling. With fresh herbs and vegetables.”

“It’s absolutely delicious.”

Their eyes met as Helena followed Stella’s voice, finding the other woman to be much closer than she thought, basically pinning her against the stove, even if not touching her.

“It is, indeed.” Helena licked her lips before reaching out for her glass, the one Stella was still holding, their hands grazing. She took a sip, their eyes still locked, and then smiled warmly.

“Would you mind setting the table, darling? By the fire, perhaps? I will go change.”

Stella watched as Helena walked away, shaking her head softly, a smile never leaving her lips. Helena was too good, definitely _scarily_ good, at controlling and morphing atmospheres. And the thing was, it really did feel like home, like they had been doing this for years now. It felt so natural that Stella decided to just go with the flow.

_Whatever happened, happened_.                                                

It took her a little while, but Stella somehow found her way around Helena’s kitchen. She set the table on the low coffee table that stood in front of the fire. She brought two clean glasses and a new bottle of red wine, for it seemed that Helena had finished the other one. That had probably been her to-go bottle. _She definitely knows how to take care of herself_ , Stella thought as she brought the still rather hot pan to the table, setting it near the fire so that it remained warm.

Once she felt they had everything they needed, she simply sat down on the floor, back resting against the couch as she watched the rain as it started to fall outside. The tall Victorian windows were a little wonder, the moonlight filling the room in such a way that one, with a fire running, didn’t need any artificial lights.

Stella didn’t notice as Helena walked in, wearing a black nightgown that matched her own, even if slightly longer and way darker. She also didn’t notice the other woman watching her from a distance, studying the way the moon framed her features. But when Helena’s hand found her way to her thigh, Stella didn’t jump or flinch. Instead, one of her own came to meet Helena’s, slowly lacing their fingers.

“Welcome back.” Helena said as Stella turned to face her. “Shall we, my lady?” She asked, motioning with her head towards the food as she brought their hands to her lips. She placed a gentle kiss before squeezing and letting go so that she could serve the food.

Once each had her plate, glass of wine, and had found the perfect position to sit, Helena let out a deep breath.

“Good?”

“Glorious.”

_Just what I needed_ , Stella thought to herself as she allowed her eyes to travel through Helena’s body as the other woman started to eat, looking completely relaxed, like this was the end of just another day at the office. Stella was jealous of how perfectly in place Helena looked, but then she reminded herself that the other woman was all about the inside, the interior maze of thoughts she would probably never get to see in full blossom.

Or maybe…

 


	3. Under Control

_Rain_ .

By now it was falling steadily, the wind inviting each drop of water to knock on the tall windows of the living room the two women currently inhabited. The rhythm of the brewing storm seemed to match the one of Stella's mind, creating a rather exquisite melody that was the perfect soundtrack to the conversation of silences that had settled between the two.

Helena had gotten up at some point, taking the plates away to the kitchen and returning with two slices of red velvet cake. She put them down on the coffee table before sitting again, this time on the couch against which Stella was still leaning.

“I almost refused this one.” Helena started as she reached for the glass of wine she had refilled before leaving for the kitchen and had left on the floor by the couch. “For the first time in my career I said no to a case.”

Stella remained in place, her back to Helena and her eyes fixed on the flames that had yet to fully consume the wood. One could think that Stella was ignoring Helena's confession, or simply not listening, but Helena knew Stella better than that. She knew exactly where to look, to search for a reaction. Stella was not one to explode in the heat of the moment, not one to jump to conclusions. A lover of  _why_ s, she was a hunter studying her prey. She craved information and the slight change in posture revealed interest.

“You would have loved to see the look on the director's face. I believe he was laughing and crying at the same time. I could hear his inner plea for it to be a joke, even though his disbelief was also palpable as he had never heard one coming out of my mouth.”

Helena looked down at the glass in her hand, her eyes focusing on the slight movements of the dark red liquid upon which she could place the blame for the ongoing confession before dismissing it as  _nothing_ . She would have been able to pull it off had she been talking to someone else, but this was Stella Gibson. They were past pretending to be someone they were not. They had crossed that line a long time ago.

“I told him I had just decided to take a spontaneous holiday.” Helena carried on, “For a moment I thought he was going to faint. He didn't dare to ask me why or to stay, though. No one would, really, for I have never taken days off. I am always off...”

Helena could now feel Stella's eyes on her. Oh yes, they had definitely crossed quite a collection of lines together. The portrait of their relationship would make Turner, Kandinsky and Picasso blush. There was a wholeness to their abstract.

“As I left his office my brain automatically started going through a list of incredible destinations that would allow me to study the believed to be underrated wonders of radio silence. I was already half way packed in my mind when my phone rang. It was your _friend_.”

The sudden sound surprised them both. Stella was laughing, her eyes bursting into life. She brought her hands to cover her mouth as she tried to get her breathing under control. The intonation Helena had given to the word  _friend_ had brought up memories from a shared past that had been explosive yet comfortable. Helena knew better than anyone that Stella was far from being Burns friend. They had been close once, yes, but there was now an immense universe standing and living between the two. Helena had never liked him. It wasn't because of the affair, at least not at first, anyway. She didn't understand why Stella had invited him into her bed when she had a whole ocean of opportunities available to dive into. He was plain, boring, very much married and a bit of an idiot in love with the idea of having a certain, even if rather limited, amount of power in his hands.

“I am sorry. Please do carry on.” Stella said as she wiped away the tears that had, for the first time in months, abandoned her eyes hand in hand with laughter.

“Darling, never apologize for interrupting me with laughter.” Helena replied as she reached for Stella's hand, squeezing it gently.

“You were saying...” Stella now sat with her back to the fireplace, her full attention focused on Helena. She brought their intertwined hands to rest over the couch and under her chin. Helena rolled her eyes playfully before allowing her back to relax against the couch and clearing her throat to continue.

“Your _friend_ just wouldn't take no for an answer. He made this rather dramatic speech about completely understanding why I didn't like him, why I despised him even, and all that not so fabulous jazz. Oscar worthy, really. And then he said you needed me.”

Stella held Helena's gaze, urging her to go on.

“I did try to convince myself that you would call if you truly needed me, but then I was rather cruelly reminded of how we had left things last time we were together...” Helena sighed deeply before taking a sip of her wine, letting it caress her senses. “He must care deeply about you, Stella. Or at least be highly infatuated with your persona, which is understandable. He knew that by calling me he would have to sooner or later face me... and yet he did.”

Stella was about to speak but Helena stopped her by disentangling their hands and bringing hers to Stella's lips.

“Burns called me once again when I landed. I asked him to keep me in the loop at all times and that was exactly what he did. He called about Paul in your room, he called about what he tried to do to you... and he called _today_.”

Helena usually only visited crime scenes after they had been abandoned by the police. She said it was easier to feel the atmosphere once the ground had been allowed to breathe. She could only try to make sense of the chosen places once she saw them as if nothing had happened there. That meant that she worked alone and as far away from the police as possible. She would have never run into Stella unless called in. She avoided the station because of the opinions, the theories, the distractions. She didn't want to know what other people thought of it all, she wanted to _feel_ what the obsessive mind was all about. She was constructing the puzzle, hence the distance.

“I was close by because I was looking into his life prior to what is believed to have been his first crime. It helps me to construct a mind, to go back and talk to the people that knew him in the past. I even spoke to a few of his patients...”

Helena allowed her train of thought, her speech, to dissolve back into silence as she stared deeply into Stella's eyes. The moment had come. She couldn't avoid it any further and she knew that Stella was now more than expecting it.

“Stella, I need to know. The way we left things last time wasn't particularly glamorous, but we have been through worse. Why didn't you make the call?”

“Why did you refuse the case at first?” Stella asked back almost immediately, zero traces of hesitation in her voice.

Helena knew how to play the game, but Stella was what one would call the perfect adversary. Together they were unbeatable. Instead of playing it, the game now grew and developed around them. For it to end? One of them had to  _choose_ to lose.

Someone had to take the first step or else they would spend what was left of their evening, perhaps even of their existence, just staring at each other in silence.

“I loathe making sense of the minds that haunt you, Stella. I loathe knowing, _understanding_ , how they work _against_ you. It makes me feel... _filthy_.”

Stella finally got up from the floor and sat down on the couch, her back to the couch's arm so that Helena sat directly in front of her.

“Remember when we first met? You told me, after watching me present a case for the very first time, that I lived every single case as if my skin was the crime scene. While some were too busy drawing the wall of China around me, you saw right through it. I thought you to be both fascinating and terrifying. You told me that passion was a door to someone's being.” Stella's eyes found Helena's and she smiled sadly. “I knew you would come if I asked, but I also knew how that would make _you_ feel. Last time...”

Helena shook her head, her free hand coming to rest on Stella's on her lap.

“Stella. It's never easy, and it will never be, to watch you come undone after a case. But being asked to leave...”

It was Stella's turn to in interrupt Helena by pressing her lips against hers. They remained like that, lips simply touching, for a long time before one of Stella's hands found its way to the side of Helena's face.

“Helena, they needed you. There were other victims _needing_ your help.”

Helena rested her forehead against Stella's, her eyes closed as she bit on her lower lip.

“ _You_ needed me, Stella. And honestly, I don't understand how people don't see right through your predatory walk. You are a giver, not a taker.”

“Firstly, do you really want to talk about predatory walks?” Helena couldn't help but smile at that, pulling away slightly to show that she was still interested in knowing why people seemed to only see piles of ice while looking at Stella.

“It's the sex. They don't understand.”

It was Helena's turn to laugh. She had to set her glass of wine down so that she wouldn't spill the liquid all over herself. She was trying to control herself but Stella wasn't making it any easier by staring at her with a look of non-approval tainted by pure amusement.

“Oh please, what's so wrong with a little control every now and then?”

_What indeed_ , Stella thought to herself as she took a leap of faith into regaining all the control that had slipped through her fingers the last couple of days.

_Whatever happened, happened_. 

Right. But what about after that? What would _happen_ next?


End file.
